


Frozen fire flowing through my veins

by Tomicaleto



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: (taggieng these to be safe), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anakin still falls, Canon-Typical Violence, Force Hallucinations, Gen, Mentions of Blood, Mentions of Child Murder, Mustafar didn't happen, Past Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Short Palpatine appearance, Suitless Vader, Vader has an Azula meltdown, Vaderkin, ask me to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:08:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26927101
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tomicaleto/pseuds/Tomicaleto
Summary: It's over. The Republic has fallen, the Empire taking its place. The Jedi Order has fallen with it, Lord Vader raising from the ashes.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker, Sheev Palpatine & Anakin Skywalker
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27





	Frozen fire flowing through my veins

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there!
> 
> This idea has been stuck in my brain for a while now, but I wasn't in the mood to write it. But today I was feeling mean so here you are! I wish I could have written about selkie au or dragon au part 2, but well, this was what I needed 
> 
> Please, if you think something needs to be tagged, tell me!
> 
> (Anakin is an unreliable narrator and also in deep denial :) )

He pulled at the neckline of his new robes and the back of his knuckles brushed against his curls. He huffed, annoyed, and pushed them away. He turned around to the big mirror across his bed and frowned. His new outfit looked sharp, his lightsaber hanging from his belt, the crystal crying constantly in the Force. 

It sounded like the screams of the Temple’s younglings before being cut down by his blade. It had been driving him mad since. He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep. The bags under his eyes had been turning darker each day. 

He frowned at his reflection. His curls ruined the whole effect of his otherwise neat appearance. His golden eyes narrowed. The echo of his wife’s voice rang around his brain. “Ani, you have such soft curls.” The phantom touch of her soft hands massaging his scalp felt as if she were there. 

But she wasn’t. She had died, and with her, the child they had been expecting. 

The whole reason for turning to the dark side and betraying everything he had stood for. And it had been in vain. 

He scoffed and turned away from his reflection, looking for a hair tie with almost frantic desperation. He found one and hastily tied his mane up. He turned again and snarled at himself. It looked terrible, curls falling messily from it onto his neck and forehead. He had always thought of growing out his hair after being knighted, possibly recreating Qui-Gon’s way of styling it after becoming a master. 

The mess in front of him was nothing like Qui-Gon. It didn’t even look like the Sith he had met during the war. He could clearly picture Count Dooku looking down on him, he had always looked down on Anakin Skywalker, called him a kid pretending to be a Jedi knight. He wondered if he would call Darth Vader a kid pretending to be a Sith. 

The thought just made him angrier, tugging uselessly at the tie, only getting it more tangled in his curls. 

His hands dropped from his hair and he swiftly grabbed his lightsaber. 

The blade shone bright red when he igninted it. With a precise swipe, he cut his messy curls, letting them fall onto the floor. It took seconds and yet he found himself panting when he looked at the mirror again. 

Gone was his golden mane, only some loose curls remaining, barely reaching his nape. 

“Oh, Anakin.... What have you done, my dear?” His eyes widened. Behind him was Obi-Wan. He was looking at him with eyes full of sadness, only making him angrier.

“Don’t call me that. Anakin Skywalker is dead, I have killed him for good.” He snarled back, closing his eyes. 

“So you have become a slave again.” Said a new voice. One he hadn’t heard in a long while. He opened his eyes again. Where his former master had been was now his mother. She had her palms crossed on her front, wearing the same clothes she had when he had left Tatooine. “Only a slave would forget their true name.” 

“Shut up.” He murmured.

“Have you forgotten the lessons I taught you?” For a second, his mother’s voice mixed with Obi-Wan’s, their appearances overlapping in the mirror. He turned away from the glass, unable to face them. “Were they so worthless that you would kneel in front of a new master so easily?” Asked Obi-Wan’s voice.  
“I needed to save Padmé.” Was his only answer. 

“Oh, Anakin.” Intervened a third voice. He forced his eyes closed. He wouldn’t be able to handle the sight of his dead wife. “I was willing to die for our child.” 

“And now you have lost both.” Firmly declared Shmi. 

“I told you to shut up!” He shouted, throwing a brush at the figure of his mother. The mirror fractured in a million pieces, some falling onto the floor. Several versions of himself stared back at him, golden eyes wide open, cheeks flushed and chest heaving. 

And then it wasn’t his reflection, but the tusken raiders’ children, their hands raised in front of their faces, trying to protect themselves from him. Each one being cut down, the glass of the mirror splattered with dark red. And in the middle of all the screams, the clear pleas of Padmé begging him to save her. 

He fell onto his knees, hands hitting the floor painfully. 

Silence filled the room, only his heavy breathing breaking it. 

“Oh, dear.” Said Obi-Wan’s soft voice. The one he had used when Anakin was still young and waking up from his nightmares, missing his mother. The one he had used when he had been hurt in the battlefield, waking up in the medical wing. “what have you done? You had such beautiful hair…”

He sobbed when a familiar touch tangled in what remained of his curls, slightly tugging at it. 

“My, my, what a mess you have made, my boy…” Palpatine’s voice said, his hand letting go from his hair and grabbing his shoulder, pulling him straight with surprising strength. “But at least your new haircut will be easier to manage. It was getting long, wouldn’t you agree?” 

He knew it was all an act. Palpatine was not the kind old man that had acted as an understanding father for him. He was the Sith lord behind it all. He was the one who had turned him into this horrible shadow of himself. He was responsible for Padmé’s death. 

But even when he knew that, the familiar touch that had been so comforting during the Clone Wars and that sympathetic tone of voice had him pressing his face against his new master’s legs. 

“Now, raise, Lord Vader, and let me take care of your mess.”

He stood up without hesitation, sitting down in front of the desk where all the toiletries had been laid out for him. Palpatine grabbed a brush and started combing it in his hair, pulling back his wild curls. With a pair of scissors, he evened out the length of them. Finally, he dropped a generous amount of hair gel onto his hair, fixing it into place. 

“Ah, much better. Now you even look like a proper Sith Lord.” He said, guiding him back to the broken mirror. 

Gone were all the ghosts of his past, only his many reflections and Palpatine’s disfigured face remained.

“Now, we should get going, I want to see the progress on my new project.” 

“Yes, my master.”

**Author's Note:**

> Basically, someone shared art of suitless Vader and he had short hair in it. And I had a pic of Hayden with his hair slicked back. We mentioned that probably Palps would have made him cut it but then, I think it was Poke said that he had an Azula moment and cut it himself and I loved that :) 
> 
> Also, I don't know about the twins but Padmé is dead in this AU, sorry but it is what it is.


End file.
